


thighs, supersize

by rottenwrinkledoldcondom



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Belly Kink, Chubby Alexander Hamilton, Chubby Thomas Jefferson, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food Kink, I live for soft wg fics, If you’re my irl friend and you saw me post this no you didn’t, Kinda, M/M, Thighs, Weight Gain, i Am still embarrassed posting these, no beta we die like men, ripped clothes, techically a kink fic but it’s not overtly sexual, this was a request but I don’t remember who from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottenwrinkledoldcondom/pseuds/rottenwrinkledoldcondom
Summary: It’s relationship weight - until it’s not.It’s a little extra weight - until it’s 5 pounds on the scale.It’s just clothes getting too tight - until it’s ripped trousers and flushed cheeks.-Or, Jefferson gets stuck in a pair of trousers, and Alexander is there to lend him a helping hand.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	thighs, supersize

Thomas was used to being able to eat a lot without much of a problem, something to do with his height and metabolism. At 6’2, you find you can consume much more than the average person while staying in relatively good shape. And he had, not muscular by any means, just comfortable in his own skin. Happy. He had remained that way for much of his life… or until now.

He’s still happy, more joyful than he ever has been. But that slim physique started fading fast - as soon as he began dating the one and only Alexander Hamilton. Now, Alexander himself was a rather well fed individual, and never shied away from showing that off. He’s so confident in his own body, “if you’ve got it, flaunt it!” The statement makes Thomas cringe but he’s more than happy to watch Alexander flaunt it. 

A few months into their relationship, Thomas starts to notice a few changes. He never had a thigh gap in the past, but it wasn’t like they  _ really _ pressed together. But now, whenever he sat down he could feel the strain of his tight skinny jeans. Oh well, it’s just a little relationship weight - he can drop it no problem.

But Thomas doesn’t drop it, in fact the next time he steps on the scales he’s gained five pounds. It has him swallowing the lump gathering in his throat and glancing down at his previously flat stomach. Well it was never flat, with a slight curve at the bottom - not now. It sticks out even more, almost becoming an overhang. He pokes it, uses both hands to squeeze the soft fat gathering there and feels a little smile across his face. He feels… comfortable of sorts. Like he could dance around, jump and enjoy the small bit of flab bounce with him.

But even still, when there’s a knock at the door, he tugs his shirt down over his stomach and pushes the scales away. “Yeah?” He calls, watching the door handle press down and the door opens, revealing a happy looking Alexander Hamilton standing there. “Oh- it’s you,” Thomas chuckles and scratches his nails on his forearm to get the itch.

“Course it’s me, dummy. Who else would it be?” Alexander laughs and steps properly into the bathroom. He raises an eyebrow. “Did the washing machine shrink your clothes?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, a tone that makes Thomas  _ know _ that Alex is just trying to bug him. And it’s working. 

He scoffs, “oh, don’t play coy, dumbass. I’ve put on five pounds, it’s obvious.” He sighs and stretches his arms. “Is there a reason you came in here? I could’ve been pissing, you never know.” 

Alexander chuckles full heartedly, the laugh coming right from his stomach, shaking as he does. It’s frankly adorable, all wobbles and smiles. “I came here to announce I got us a reservation to that new Steakhouse in town, you’re welcome.” He winks at him and giggles, waddling himself forward and wrapping Thomas’ arms around his shoulders. “But at the rate you’re going, you’re gonna need a new suit for it.” He teases with a low tone that sends jolts of electricity down his spine. Alex’s hands find his thighs, squeezing until Thomas gasps. 

“What are you doing-?” He manages out, breath ragged and short. 

Alexander just winks at him and smiles, taking his hands away. “Oh nothing.” He makes the decision not to tell his wonderful boyfriend that the weight he gained hadn’t really gone to his stomach. Sure, some of it had, but most of it had gone to his thighs and hips (and his ass, but Alexander won’t say that to Thomas  _ just yet. _ ) thickening and softening more than the rest of his body. Whereas the weight Alex gains goes to his stomach, and some to his cheeks - Thomas gains a more… curvaceous figure. Alexander has been getting obsessed with it, he isn’t sure if Thomas has noticed Alex squeezing his hips more. 

Thomas doesn’t say anything in relation in the suit comment, mainly because he knows it’s true. “When did you make the reservation for?”

“The closest one I could get was a month from now, but it’ll still be good,” he smiles, going up on his toes to kiss Thomas’ cheek. He had an idea, curiosity killed the tomcat.  


* * *

Over the month, Thomas hadn’t stopped piling on the weight. As much as he had, he just hadn’t noticed. Alexander had kept him off the scale and on the couch, tempting his sweet tooth and heaping affection onto his pudgy frame. And just like Alex had hoped, the weight was bottom heavy, going to his thighs and ass. So Alexander does as he always wanted to, pays all his attention to Thomas - even more than usual.

On the day of their date, Alexander gets ready earlier than Thomas, leaving his boyfriend some privacy to change. Even with them being so close, he knows that Jefferson much prefers getting ready on his own - dislikes watching eyes judging what he picks out before it’s even on his body. 

Thomas has seen what Alex is wearing, a light blue button up and his nicest jeans, because of course he’s wearing jeans to a fancy restaurant. Thomas knows better, and manages to button up his white shirt, turning to squeeze to squeeze his way into grey dress pants. After much huffing and puffing, he gets them half way up his thighs before they get stuck. He scrunches his brows together and takes a deep inhale. He sucks in his stomach, even though that won’t make a difference. Maybe the placebo effect will be on his side and he’ll be able to tug them up over his hips.

He wiggles back and forth, small grunting noises as he yanks the expensive material up, up, up and finally over his hips. He exhales rapidly out his nose, sighing with relief. The pants are tight around his legs and hips, the waistband pressing uncomfortably into the gathering pudge around his stomach - but it’s only a few hours of discomfort and then he can come home and put on pyjamas. The material is especially taunt around his thighs and behind, and part of Thomas is worried if he bends over he’ll rip them right down the seams.

If he knew Alexander had been listening to his struggle from the other room, he’d be even more embarrassed. But good for him, Alex knows how to hide the fact that he’d been avidly pressing his ear to the door, hearing Thomas hop about trying to get into his trousers. It had him wondering if the man would be able to get them off after eating. God… he chewed his bottom lip and stepped back, making it look like he had just been walking up to the bedroom door as it swung open.

“You ready?” Alexander asks, taking careful note of Thomas’ damp hairline, the only evidence of his battle against his tight dress pants. He merely nods and takes Alexander’s hand.

They eat together, chatting and flirting, drinking glasses of expensive wine and dining on melt-in-your-mouth steaks. When they’re done (desert included of course, the strawberry cheesecake Thomas had was  _ divine _ ,) they leave a 30% tip for excellent service and decide to take themselves home in a taxi. It’s dark out by the time they get back home, and all Thomas wants to do is change and go to bed. 

His trousers are even tighter than when they left, and he’s certain they’ll be even harder to get off. But he tries not to think about it. After all, he’s a little tipsy off sweet wine and getting drunker off the kisses Alexander keeps pressing to his lips. 

Thomas giggles and sits down on the bed and stretches his arms above his head, the movement untucking his shirt from his pants. It shows off an angry red mark around his waist, where his trousers have been digging in all night. 

Alexander seems to notice as he runs a careful finger along the indent in his skin and huffs out a sigh. "Oh baby, aren't they tight?" He coos. He's more sober than Thomas, by quite a bit, as he wasn't very interested in the expensive wine - he really prefers a cheaper wine. "Let's get you out of them, shall we?" He taps the button, glancing over the seams, pulled so tightly around his thighs, like they could split at any moment.

The discomfort sets in truly as Thomas tries to lie back, a hiss between his lips as the waistband presses into his stomach more. He fumbles and undoes the button, sighing with the small bit of relief it grants him. “I need to buy new trousers,” he mumbles, glancing up at Alexander who looms over him. Alex sits crossed-legged on their bed, leaning on his elbow with a soft smile. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” 

“Cause,” Alexander shrugs and giggles, “you’re cute, and usually you don’t let me look at you. I like looking at you,” he coos, tapping his fingers off Thomas’ forearm. “Come on, let’s get comfy. We can buy new trousers later.”

Thomas hums, seemingly satisfied with that answer. There’s a distinct pink tint to his cheeks, dusty under his skin tone, flustered. It’s cute. He pats his own stomach, soft and jiggly, but not really what Alexander is focused on. No, it’s the way his thighs spread and squish underneath him, thick and beautiful. There’s an itch in his fingers, an urge to touch and squeeze. 

With another stretch and a yawn, Thomas sits up. Behind him, on the bed, Alexander carefully strips his shirt and stands, dropping it in their washing basket. He changes quickly into pyjamas, and turns back around to Thomas attempting to wriggle out of his trousers. He’s panting, tongue resting between his teeth, eyebrows knit with desperation. Thomas glances up and meets Alex’s eyes with an embarrassed blush. “I- they’re stuck,” he admits. He’s managed to fold the top down, but they’re well and truly stuck around his thighs, the material refusing to stretch anymore to accommodate the added pudge to there and his ass. 

Alexander catches his bottom lip, rolls it back and forth and exhales. “You’re stuck..?” There’s a tint of arousal to his voice, and he can’t even hide it. There’s a hint of panic across Thomas’ face, as he considers the worst. “Don’t worry, Tommy, here, sit down. I can help.” He pushes Thomas’ shoulders until he sits down on the bed, which creaks under the impact. And as he hits the mattress, there’s a loud and distinct  _ rip! _

A flare of heat goes up Thomas’ cheeks, the very tips of his ears going a bright red. Alexander takes a step back to admire the damage. There’s a very nice looking tear down his right side, on the outward seam, and the material squeezes around his thighs, and some of the soft fat is jutting out through the rip. On the other side, on the inseam of his left leg, there’s another rip with the same thing happening. He’s about to say something but Thomas sighs. “Good god, there’s no saving them, is there?” He doesn’t seem upset, as Alexander had suspected. He’s glad that his boyfriend isn’t sad.

Alexander doesn’t know what to say, his heart is caught in his throat and all he can do is gape. Thomas shifts and sighs, “there’s another rip,but I’m sitting on it.” He giggles and shifts. “I need to get these off, go grab some scissors, we might need them.” He finds a job for Alexander, who complies and rushes off.

_ Dear lord. _

As Alexander is rooting through their cupboards and drawers in the kitchen for a pair of scissors, he’s thinking to himself. He had never thought of Thomas as a person who would happily gain, that was more himself. But tonight had him thinking, god what if? They could gain together, wouldn’t that be wonderful? A soft couple… it was going to his head, he felt drowsy thinking about holding Thomas, about watching how his fat would distribute. Eventually, he picks out a pair of black scissors and takes a deep breath.

Walking quickly back to their bedroom, he can hear Thomas huffing with the effort of squirming out his clothes, and as he ducks back into the room, he can see that not much progress has been made. “Doing okay?” Alexander asks, holding the scissors in hand. Surely they’re not going to be needed… right? 

Thomas looks up and chuckles, he’s managed to ease them down a little, but there’s sweat on his brow which clears it up. They actually need to cut him out of his trousers. He runs a hand through his curls and shrugs, “not really. Help me out?” He winks. It should be humiliating, this inability to get out of his clothes. But it’s not, no, he shouldn’t be finding this hot, and yet… 

Alexander is by his side within the next second, snipping his scissors threateningly. “How did you get into them, but you can’t get out?” He asks, letting Thomas sit down before he cuts more from where the rip is on his right thigh, up to the waistband and through. There’s a contented sigh above him as Thomas frees himself from the confinements of too tight clothing. 

He helps his boyfriend out of the trousers and tosses them to the floor, tattered and literally cut up. Alexander watches Thomas stretch out and take off his shirt, dropping it off the side of the bed. “I don’t know how,” he finally answers and yawns, patting the bed next to him. 

Alexander giggles and lays down, wrapping around him like ivy to the side of a house. One hand grabs the covers and yanks them up over them, the other splays across Thomas’ bare thigh, near the frayed bottom of his boxers. “We should go shopping, tomorrow?” He suggests sleepily. This happens every time. He’s never been a tired man, could go days without sleep with no issues, but as soon as someone dragged him to bed, the exhaustion would hit him like a truck and he would just want to curl up and sleep forever.

But this was especially good. Plush thighs pressed together, a soft belly against Thomas’ sides, the smooth, pudgy skin of another’s hip resting against him like a pillow. It’s perfect, all curves and jiggly limbs tangling together. It doesn’t get better. Truly.

**Author's Note:**

> leave kudos and comments, I dont write to be ignored 🥺 also they’re very motivating.  
> Requests are open if yall are interested at all!


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